His countenance was pale as death, but not a muscle quivered; nor did he betray the slightest appearance of fear. And Gerald— Melusine swallowed on an unaccountable lump in her throat. “But if you had?” she said. Impressionable, lonely, a deal beyond his analytical reach, the girl might let her sympathies go beyond those of the nurse. How little he knew about Ruth—the background from which she had sprung! He knew that her father was a missioner, that her mother was dead, that she had been born on this island, and that, at the time of his collapse, she had been on the way to an aunt in the States. Her shoulders began to ache.
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